November 12, 2023
My nightmares haven’t let up. The voices are getting clearer, and their stories are making more sense. It’s frightening to admit, but I’m not sure I can keep ignoring them. I feel like I have to push further into this nightmarish world to figure out what they want from me and how it all ties back to Candle Face.
My dreams have changed drastically, and my memory of them is sharper. I’m no longer just watching; I’m involved, whether I like it or not. As I drift between being awake and asleep, I hope that, eventually, I’ll learn what these voices are trying to tell me.
Then, last night, something happened that startled me awake. It was a vivid dream so intense that I grabbed a pen the moment I opened my eyes. In this dream, a spirit came to me, surrounding my bed. She wasn’t like the others—a single voice with a story to share.
As I listened, unable to look away, she told me she was one of Candle Face’s victims. She never gave her name, but she begged me to remember her tragic past so it wouldn’t be lost forever. Her words rang through with a painful clarity, cutting through all the other voices. This is what she said:
I hate life. I hate people. And most of all, I hate myself. Everyone and everything has been against me from the very beginning. Parents, siblings, friends, schools, the government—everyone and everything else is against me. I want out of this world, this life of mine. I could end it myself, of course. I’ve tried many times, but somehow, I survived. I know ending my own life would mean heaven wouldn’t take me, and I think hell wouldn’t want me either.
A few years before Candle Face kidnapped me, I had hoped I wouldn’t wake from surgery, but I did. I cried when I woke. I even ripped open the stitches above my own heart, hoping my heart would fall out. I wished for death many times, but my body kept betraying me. My own body wants me to continue being tormented by life. Why? Why must I constantly be tormented?
Candle Face explained it to me when she took me to her lair. She said my punishment for losing my faith in her would be eternal life with pain that would compound over time with each of her kills. I’m not dead, I know. She keeps me alive just to torture me.
Will you help me? Ray, please help me die.
Her revelation was like a vital puzzle piece finally clicked into place, linking my dreams to Candle Face’s story in a way I can’t ignore. The spirit’s plea, so desperate and determined, has left a lasting impression on me.
Not long ago, I said I wanted no part in this, even though I had no real choice. Now, I’m starting to think that if I can actually help these lost souls find peace, maybe—just maybe—I’ll be willing to face it more openly.
Personal Note to My Readers
It’s crucial to understand that the sequence of victims listed in Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls may not necessarily reflect the actual chronological order in which Candle Face killed them. Instead, the order presented is based on when these victims shared their experiences with me.
Key To Understanding
Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One]
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